“I know.”
“Do your parents know?”
I humphed.
“What?”
“They’ve fucking known all along. Ever since Alyssa found out she was pregnant.”
“Wait, wasn’t Alyssa your high school girl or something?”
“How the fuck would you even know that, Eden?” I’d never told her. Only one person in Sydney knew about Alyssa at all, and he was forbidden from telling anyone else under Doctor/Client privilege.
“It was just something your mum said, when I helped arrange the surprise meeting— Wait, did she tell you about that?”
“Yes, she fucking told me about that. Now, don’t change the fucking subject.”
“Well, being a father hasn’t cleaned your language up any.”
“Eden—” My voice was a low warning.
“Your mum said she wanted to tell you something about an ex-girlfriend. She’d hoped that the two of you might work things out. I didn’t have the heart to tell her you were out screwing around all over town. She mentioned Alyssa’s name then.”
“Well la-de-fucking-da. I’m glad everyone knows all my shit.”
“Declan, I’m hardly everyone. And I swear I knew nothing about your daughter.”
“Whatever, Eden. I gotta go, all right? Can you text me that number?”
“Is that why you haven’t been able to concentrate on the track? Because of your daughter?”
“No,” I growled. “I only just fucking found out about her a week ago.”
“Sorry. I had to ask.”
“Please don’t tell anyone. I just want to sort shit out for myself first.”
“Sure thing, Declan. And I’ll get that number to you soon.”
“Thanks, Edie.”
I hung up the phone and stared at it until the tone beeped to indicate that I had a new message. I pulled up the number and looked at the clock through the kitchen window as I dialled. It was just after four in the afternoon. Dr. Henrikson kept precise hours and closed the office at five. I figured I would have time to call quickly, and maybe schedule a phone hook-up for the following day.
The sooner I spoke to him, the sooner I could take Alyssa out on our first date. I rang the number and got an answering machine. I hung up the phone and as I did, I realised the time on my phone screen read just after five. I hurled the phone across the patio in frustration. I’d fucking forgotten that Queensland was too fucking backward to introduce daylight savings, so it was a fucking hour behind Sydney during summer. Damn.
It meant I’d fucking have to wait until the next day to schedule a meeting, which would put everything a day behind.
I walked over and grabbed my phone to assess the damage. It had busted apart when it hit the wood decking, but thankfully still worked when I pieced it back together again. I dialled Dr. Henrikson’s number again. At least I knew he wasn’t going to be there this time.
“Dr. Henrikson. It’s DR. I want to schedule an appointment for a phone consultation. Soon. Today if possible,” I knew he wasn’t going to get the message that day, so I left the message in anticipation of him checking it in the morning. “Sorry . . . about the last session, I mean. Anyway, I’m not in Sydney, but if you call me to arrange a time, I can call you back for the session.” I rattled off both my mobile and Mum’s home number so that he would definitely be able to reach me. Vaguely, I wondered if he would actually call me back. Especially after what happened the last time we saw each other. It was hard to fucking believe that it was almost a year ago. Just after I won the championship. I thought back on that time in my life.
“I NEED tablets, Doc. I’m just not fucking sleeping anymore.”
“Declan, we’ve discussed this before. Giving you sleeping tablets is not going to help in the long term. They are a short-term remedy. We need to find the root cause for your insomnia.” Dr. Henrikson’s slight British accent usually made his voice calming but in that moment, it just annoyed the fuck out of me. I didn’t understand why he couldn’t just give me the fucking prescription and be done with it. Each time I returned to his office, he’d been increasingly difficult about prescribing what I needed.
“I know the fucking cause, Doc. I can’t stop my mind from ticking over without the help of the fucking tablets.” I paced back and forth across his office.
He sighed. “You’ve supplanted illegal drugs with legal ones. I cannot in good conscience sign a prescription for a drug addict.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m hardly a fucking addict. I haven’t touched the hard stuff for years now.”
“You know a lot of people think that once an addict, always an addict. Besides, there are different levels of addiction and it’s been my experience that it is a constant battle often lost at the most minor of infractions.”
“I was never fucking addicted, all right? It was just a bit of fun and fuckery, and when it went too far, I came to see you. I gave it up.”
“If you say so. Why don’t we discuss what is keeping you awake at night.”
I growled in frustration as I flipped around for a fresh lap in my pacing. “I told you, I just can’t turn my fucking brain off.”
His gaze followed my steps with a practiced patience. “You must be thinking about something? Is it to do with work? Are there any problems there?”
I stopped pacing long enough to give him an incredulous look. “Do you even fucking watch the news at all? I just fucking took the championship. Youngest driver ever to do it. So, no, there’s no fucking problem at work.”
The end of his blond moustache lifted as he met my look with a smug smile. “Well, there must be something? What about Alyssa?”
I rolled my eyes. “I fucking told you about her once because you asked about my past fucking relationships. I don’t understand why you feel the need to fucking bring her up each fucking session. If I wanted to talk about Alyssa, I would fucking talk about Alyssa. I don’t—so case fucking closed.”
“Do you dream about her?”
I flinched, because I did. Every fucking night she was there. I’d managed to purge her out of my waking thoughts, but there were two times when she invaded my life. In my fantasies if I ever indulged in the use of my hand—which was why it was easier to go to a club and pick up an easy score—and at night when I closed my eyes. During those two times, Alyssa was all I could see. “I thought I just said case fucking closed.”
He chuckled. “And that makes me want to talk about it all the more. You’re not an off-limits type of guy. You’ve told me about your drug use, about your drinking, about the violent acts you can remember, and about your regular night-time activities. That makes me wonder why Alyssa is off-limits.”
“Because she is,” I snapped.
He raised his eyebrows at me. “That’s all? ‘Because she is.’”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why is she off-limits?” he asked patiently.
I threw my hands in the air and started on my well-worn path again. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” I snapped.
“In more than one word.”
I sighed, and pinched the bridge of my nose. He was really starting to grate on my last fucking nerve. “Because she’s in the past, that’s why.”
“Everything we talk about is in your past.”
“She’s in my past as in another fucking life. I don’t talk about my parents either. I don’t talk about any of my old fucking school friends. Because they all belong to another part of my life that no longer exists.”
“But they do still exist, Declan. Don’t you see that? You can try to cut that part of yourself off, but it’s still there. It’s still part of what makes you who you are today. So why won’t you tell me about Alyssa?”
“Because I can’t stand to think about her. Because thinking about her fucking stresses me out too fucking much. Because every time someone mentions her fucking name I fee
l like someone has ripped out my heart and lungs and I don’t fucking like feeling like that. So shut the fuck up about Alyssa fucking Dawson!” By the end of my rant I was standing just inches from him, shouting while tears of rage pricked my eyes.
“Is it possible you still love her?” he almost whispered.
In the next instant, I had him pinned against the wall. To his credit he didn’t even look afraid. “You are a fucking lunatic! Why the fuck do I pay you a small fucking fortune each fucking week? You don’t do shit for me. You won’t even give me the one thing I fucking need and yet you insist on harping on about the one topic I’ve said is off fucking limits.” I shoved him into the wall and pushed away. “Fuck you, man, you’re nothing but a two-bit fucking quack.”
Turning away from him, I kicked his coffee table over before slamming his door open to leave. I stalked past the receptionist without a second glance. I hadn’t shown up for another session since.
AS I sat, reliving the memory, I grew more unsure of what to do next. I took a deep breath and, recalling the agitation which had been such a constant in my life for so long, paced up and down the length of the patio. I had no idea how long it would be before Mum got home and until then, I was locked out and unable to change or eat or anything. I could go for a drive, but to where? The realisation of where I needed to be hit me like a lightning bolt.
I walked back to the front yard and grabbed a piece of paper from the car. Jotting down a note for Mum, I let her know I was going for another walk, that I’d be home later, and that my mobile was on. Before long, I was back at our park. Instead of heading to the table though, I moved toward the base of the giant tree which provided shade to a section of the park. Sitting on the roots, I tilted my head back and relaxed.
If I closed my eyes, I could almost pretend Alyssa was beside me. After a while, I twisted to lie on my back between the roots of the tree, feeling the cool, shadowed ground beneath me and enjoying the slight breeze in the air. I kept my eyes closed and felt at peace. For the first time in a long time, I was able to turn my mind off. I still saw Alyssa as soon as my eyes were closed, but I didn’t fight it.
Instead, I spent my time revisiting all my favourite features; the way her fingers curl through the ends of her hair when she’s nervous, the almost opaque colour of her skin, and the soft honey-gold gaze that burned me from inside in the best possible way. From there, my thoughts turned to Phoebe. I wondered how many traits she’d inherited from Alyssa. How much was she like me?
A spark of curiosity burned deep within me, and I realised I wanted to know more about her. I wanted to know everything about her. With that thought in my mind, I was determined that somehow Alyssa and I would make it work.
My mobile rang, startling me back to reality.
“Hello?”
“Declan. It’s Dr. Henrikson. I believe you wanted to talk to me urgently.”
“Fuck. I mean, shit, thanks for calling back. I just didn’t expect you to call so soon.”
“You asked me to call you back today. I assume you have something you need to discuss.”
“I actually didn’t think you’d check your messages until tomorrow. But, Doc, I have to apologise, for . . . well . . . for the last time we spoke. I guess I just didn’t know what was fucking going on in my head.”
“That is usually the reason for seeing a psychiatrist isn’t it?”
I settled back to the ground with my eyes closed and the phone pressed to my ear. “I guess.”
“I have to admit, I was a little bit surprised you decided to reach out to the two-bit quack again though.”
“Shit, you know I didn’t fucking mean that.”
“I’ve known you long enough to know you don’t say anything you don’t mean, at least on some level. Enough about last time though. To what do I owe the pleasure now?”
“I need to sort some shit out. And trust me, I’ve got some deep fucking shit to sort out.”
“Are you back on the drugs, Declan? Is that why you’ve been crashing?”
Why does every fucker have an opinion on why I’ve been fucking crashing? “No. I’m not back on the fucking drugs. I just need to fucking know whether you’ll help me with some phone sessions over the next few weeks.”
“I can probably pencil you in. I can have Lucy call you in the morning. Are there any particular times of day that would be better for you?”
“Any time is fine. I just need at least one a day for the next few weeks.”
“Every day?”
“Yep.”
He seemed to consider it for a while. “I guess if you want a session a day, I can get Lucy to squeeze you in.”
I smiled to myself. An hour a day on the phone with Dr. Henrikson would be absolutely worth a date every night with Alyssa. After all, she was the one who made me agree to the condition of one date per session. She’d never specified how many sessions she wanted me to have though, or a maximum number. It was a loophole of her creation, I was just happily dancing through it.
I said goodbye to Dr. Henrikson and placed my phone on my stomach. Without his voice in my ear, I greeted my visions of Alyssa again. I must have started to drift off to sleep because a sound near my head jolted me back to consciousness. I turned my head to see what it was, and was greeted by a sight that made me leap to my feet in surprise: a pair of turquoise eyes, and a shining bright smile, set in a tiny little face surrounded by a curtain of brown hair.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: TWO ON ONE
“FU—” I THREW my hand over my mouth before the word could come out. Truthfully, she’d scared the hell out of me. I hadn’t expected to see Phoebe again so soon and I definitely hadn’t expected her to fucking sneak up on me while I was lying beneath the tree which held so many perfect memories for me. I looked up and saw Alyssa standing timidly by our table.
I stared at Alyssa as if she were an apparition. Just moments ago, I’d had my eyes closed and was going over her face and body in my mind again and again. Seeing her for real, I realised my memory was not accurate. In my memory, Alyssa was beautiful. Standing in front of me she was fucking astronomical—nothing less than an Aphrodite.
Alyssa stared at me too, seemingly just as transfixed.
“Look, Mummy, it’s your friend, Declan.” Phoebe’s voice suddenly filled the air between us, drawing my attention.
“That’s right, sweetie,” Alyssa cooed at Phoebe. She walked a few steps farther into the park. “I don’t think we’ll stay here tonight though, Declan probably wants to be alone.”
“No,” I said quickly. “Don’t leave on my account.” I wasn’t sure why Alyssa was there, so far from her house, but I didn’t want to force her out. “Why don’t you stay?”
Alyssa stared at me, no doubt trying to figure out how sincere I was.
“I need to talk to you anyway,” I continued. “I mean—if that’s okay with you?”
Alyssa looked undecided for a few moments. She glanced at Phoebe and I could almost see her weighing up her options. When she started walking over to me, I breathed a fucking sigh of relief. I sat back down on the grass and she sat beside me. After unloading a few toys from a backpack she was carrying, she threw a small soft soccer ball at Phoebe who squealed and started to throw it away and chase it around.
Alyssa watched me cautiously. “What did you want to talk about?”
“I did it.” I smirked at her, knowing she had no idea what I was talking about. “I called Dr. Henrikson, my psychiatrist, and he’s going to organise for me to start sessions tomorrow.” I didn’t want to tell her I’d arranged daily sessions just yet, otherwise she might try to stitch up the loophole.
She raised her eyebrow at me. “That was fast. I’d expected you to think it over a little bit first.”
I shrugged. “What’s to think over? I’ve already told you I want to make a go of this,” I waved my hand between the two of us. “You’ve already told me that to do that I need to see a fu—” Her eyes narrowed and shot over to glance at Phoebe before
settling back on me. Right, I’ve got to watch my fucking language. “—that I need to see a shrink.”
She shook her head sadly. “It’s not going to be a quick fix.”
I rolled my eyes. “You think I don’t fucking know that?”
I put my hand over my mouth once I realised I had let loose a fucking swear word. I was used to talking without swearing when I fucking needed to, like at press conferences and shit like that, but when it came to any emotive issues, the words tended to just fucking fall out without any conscious thought. I realised it was going to take a lot of effort to watch my mouth around Phoebe.
She stared down at her hands. “You’ve done a lot of hurtful things.”
I sighed. “I know. And I can never really apologise enough for them all. But we had a good day today, didn’t we?”
She nodded. “Yes.” Her eyes remained fixed on her hands.
“What is it, Alyssa? Please talk to me.”
“I keep waiting for it to happen.”
“For what to happen?” I asked, confused at her change of tack.
“For the moment you run away.”
I put my finger on her chin and directed it toward me until I could capture her gaze. “I’m done running, Alyssa. Running hasn’t made me happy. It hasn’t made anyone happy.”
Her gaze penetrated through me, right through to the very depths of my soul—or at least the parts of it that were undamaged after my recent discoveries. She seemed to be searching for something. She shrugged and looked away. “We’ll see.”
The sadness in her voice made my jaw clench.
I knew there was no point fucking arguing. The only way to convince her that I had changed was to fucking show her that I had changed. And there was no time like now to start. “So are we on for tomorrow night then?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I’ve got a session with the doc tomorrow, so that means you owe me one date. If we’re going one for one, like we agreed, it’ll be easier to have the date on the same day as the session won’t it? So we don’t fu—so we don’t lose count.”
Declan Reede: The Untold Story (Complete Series) Page 36
